Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-04-24


that they've ever had to lie alongside n
mother as good as dead and try to Get
fed and warmed at breast rs cold as
that poor souls. Thank God, no But
for oil that, well-fed kids can cry, and
cry pitiful, too 80 ! know how he
meant TO say this particular kid cried.
Standard hadn't no need to tether
Lady TO make her stop alongside, she
was such reasonable beast but he
put her bride over tree branch for all
that. Certainty is worth deal OF faith
when it's about being let alone in a IT,
tree scrub, without yoar horse and kit.
Then he laid the little one on Its
mothers shawl and set to work to bring
| the mother TO. He'd seen men ex-
| hausted and laid down to die from
thirst and fatigue come round, but he
wasn't sure, la said, il woman had
TO be done for the same as a mamie
was a single chap then. But he set TO
and got little water first. and thea
water with dash of brandy in it, be-
tween her blue lips, and rubbed her
forehead and hands well, and laid her
so as the blood-once The spirit had
started it again could flow a bit
! quicker TO her poor brain. A bushman
| has to be bit of doctor, You know.
Then the baby started to help by giving
loud shrek, and the young woman
opened her eyes and sighed like and
he kept on giving her water and spiri.
as she could take it till she could feel
herself more comfortable He didn't
start talking to her then, knowing she
wanted all her strength TO come round
but he put II g baby back in her arms,
and the mother in her prompted her
like TO take a good long pull at the
drink in the billy-so as the kid might
get some once in awhile, you know.
After bit she started to cry in low
sort of way, and then Standard, he sat
by her and cheered her up, and told
her not to take on. He told her she
was found, and that all the worst Of
being lost was done with, and not to
cry, and so on. All the time, poor fell
low, though he didn't hurry her, he
knew he was losing time dreadfully,
and would hardly make the creek TO
camp 10y before nightfall. Thinking
of that he suddenly remembered the
woman had got to go, too, or be left to
die where she was. Standard was
wondering what the deuce he should do
with her, when she started and told
him how she came there. 1t seemed
she was the wife of the storekeeper,
Zimmerman, that the boss "Paddy's
Shanty" had spoken of, and she says,
when they had gotten part way through
the scrub two days before. mind YOU,
they stopped to change her on to the
other horse and allow 'em to stand
about bit to stretch their legs, the two
men. The fools never hitched the
horses to anything All of sudden
snake slid across the track, right I'M
der the woman's feet She screamed |
out, and that startled the horses. Of |
they went-bolted clean into the scrub,
carrying every blessed thing they got |
with them-water, matches, the billy. |
and everything, Her husband and his |
chum tore after them, telling her to be |
sure and stop where she was |
She sat there all alone, and |
there she'd sit First waiting |
patient, and then a little frightened |
and nervous as hetimo went on. Then,
when it got dark and into the night,
they didn't come, scared out of her life. |
and shouting, shouting to 'em to guide |
EN- to come back F.; and she tells how
She stood there, not daring to move.
but trying to see over the trees, and |
shouting till she couldn't speak, and |
they never come. BY and by she got
thirsty and faint, and the child was
CRYING for drink and she'd nothing for
it. Then she walked on, hoping to get
some water and then, she said, the
trees seemed all to wave about and closa |
in on her. and she sank down exhausted, |
and must have been in sort of sleep |
and swoon, mixed, till Standard found
her.
She saws to Standard: "They must
be killed, "and cries awfully.
Poor fellows" said Standard. He
knew that being "killed" would be
pleasant to dying of thirst, as they most |
likely would do once they got lost there |
But he tried to comfort her, and to
please her he shouts again. Though, |
as he said, after two days, and she and
the baby shouting all they could most |
of the time, and they not come back it
weren't likely they were within hail |
now He made her understand |
this at last. Says he, every like
ly they's got to camp" to COM
fort her, you understand. Then he |
started to say how Yves they and the
baby to get ont OF this? She didn't
want to move from where she was. poor
woman. in case her husband should |
come back, but Standard says to her:
You can't do your husband no good |
by stopping here, and if you get quick |
to GundarOo, you could tell 'em to send
out q search party, and besides, ma'am,
your little one can't manage another
night in the bush"
"No, sir" she says. She was a gen
tie, docile thing, and see he was right
and then she says to him, helpless and
grateful like: Gould We ride behind
you, sir ?"
Poor Standard He felt stumped.
He didn't know what to say. He }
looked at the tall young woman and
the baby and then at himself and the
horse already well weighted with his
camping kit and the mails 1t wasn't
possible, and he knew it. There was
ten miles on so to be done that night
before they got to the creek. 1t was
late now nearly seven. 1t would be
dark as pitch in the scrub before they
got there, even if Lady could carry
all that load so far as that; but as to
carving them all to Gundaroo, eighty
relies further on, he knew she couldn't
do it. Besides, nothing was allowed
to delay the mails. He would be late
as it was for the stop he'd made. 1t
must be a couple of days at best. be-
fore he'd get there, carrying all that
extra weight.
So Standard stood for moment or
two and thought it all over, while he
watched the girl for she was no more)
straighten herself and the child and
struggle to stand. Seeing her stagger
a bit called him to himself. and he
thinks as he gave her his hand to steady
her, damn her Majesty 8 mail regula-
tons I'll take her, somehow"